The TV turned on, but then all the power went off again.
"Wow." I rolled my eyes, and sat back.
Jimmy barked out laughing. "That's hilarious." Jimmy looked around, then his gaze fixed on something. "What's that?" He stood up, and walked over to something. Then, I knew what he saw. My eyes widened, and I raced up to it. It was my first grade picture.
"Aw! Is this you?" Jimmy asked, sticking his bottom lip out in awe.
"Yes," I said shakily, swiftly pushing the picture down. "You don't need to see that."
"Hey," Jimmy picked up the picture. "You don't have to be embarrassed, I think it's cute." He examined the picture. I stood behind him, and looked at it, too.
God, I've changed since then. My overly-long dark brown hair spilled down my shoulders. My dark brown eyes glimmered in the light exposure, and I smiled with my teeth, my left front tooth missing. I had an electric blue streak in my hair.
"Neon streaks since day one, huh?" Jimmy ran his fingers through my blue highlight.
"Yeah, it's always been my signature style. In fact, all through elementary through high school, my nickname was Blue. I've always only had one blue streak, so that's why. I got this pink streak before I graduated to see if that nickname would wear off, but..." I shrugged. "It never did. I was known as this hideous goth girl."
"You're not hideous," Jimmy stroked my neck. "I think you're perfect in every single way. If anyone says otherwise, call me. I'll beat their ass." I gave Jimmy a you're-insane look. "I mean, whaaaat?" I snickered.
The rain was still smashing on the window. It was starting to get really hot in the room because the air conditioning wasn't functioning.
"I should take you to meet my parents. I've talked to them a lot about you, and they are dying to meet you." Jimmy said as he put the picture down.
"Yeah, I would love to meet them." I said, even though I knew they would probably hate me. "Maybe when this hurricane passes."
"Yeah, I'll definitely talk to them about it."
We sat in silence for the longest time. My phone buzzed. I picked it up. One new text message, the screen said. My battery was about to die.
Then, Jimmy buzzed too. I opened the message.

New York, NY
AMBER Alert
1996 Grey/Black Ford
If you see this vehicle, call 911 immediately.

"I got an AMBER Alert..." Jimmy and I said in unison.
"God, I hate when this shit happens. People are sick." I said, dropping my phone on the coffee table in disgust.
I walked to my room, grabbed my computer, and sat on the couch. Jimmy sat down next to me, looking at my computer screen.
"What are you doing?" Jimmy asked, putting his index finger to his lip.
I typed in AMBER Alert in the Google search engine, and clicked News. "I'm having a weird déjà vu." I clicked on an article, and it took a few moments to load.
I scrolled down, and started reading.

July 15, 2003 10:56 p.m.
Just this evening, everyone in New York City received a text message concerning an AMBER Alert.
15 year old teenaged girl, Kimberly Meyers, was abducted by a masked man. It was reported that Kimberly was kidnapped in a Grey Ford in Manhattan. If you see this vehicle, call emergency services immediately.

To the side was a picture of Kimberly. She had red-gold hair, and sky blue eyes. Freckles covered the bridge of her nose, and her cheeks.
"God," I said. "What is wrong with people?" I turned off my computer, and leaned it on the side of the couch.
"It's sick." Jimmy said in a monotone.
I need to figure out why I was having this déjà vu.